Morning Light
by Isabell89
Summary: This is just a short MS oneshot that came to my mind on a sleepless night. Placed somewhere during Season 4.


Morning light

A/N: This is just a short one-shot that came to my mind last night when I couldn't sleep. Hope you like it.

She stood on the balcony, letting the last warm sunshine rays of the year caress her face as she breathed in the cool morning air. Her eyes were closed, as her thoughts wandered towards the events of last night, and a small smile crossed her face.

She didn't turn around or open her eyes when she heard the soft creaking of the door behind her, nor did she when she felt two strong arms slide around her waist, pulling her body close to his.

"It's beautiful." His soft whisper finally made her open her eyes, and for the first time that morning, she really noticed the bright morning that was bathing the city in a golden light.

"Yeah, it is," She whispered back, pulling his arms closer around her body and snuggling into his warm chest. He dropped a soft kiss onto her golden locks, and then rested his head on her shoulder, his warm cheek brushing against hers.

It was that simple moment that made Samantha Spade the happiest she had ever been in her entire life. This just being here with him, doing nothing but enjoying the fact that they were here, now, together, and the fact that they were finally, after a long time, happy again.

Only yesterday morning when she woke up, everything had started out as an ordinary day, an ordinary morning when she woke up alone, in a cold bed, with no one to keep her warm or kiss her good-morning. It was these simple things that Samantha had come to miss in the hours alone at home, in the hours she spent without him, wondering where she had gone so wrong.

She would have never thought then, in the early hours of her lonely morning, that she would be here right now, with him. It was amazing how much had changed in one day.

The case they had been working on had been tough on everyone on the team. It was always the cases involving young girls that hit them the hardest, especially when, like this time, they turned up dead, raped and dumped like a piece of dirt.

And of course it had to be Martin who found her body in that dark alley behind the old warehouse. Martin, who already suffered the most, Martin, who always tried to save everyone, especially the small kids.

Samantha had seen him start to fall apart there, in that dark, small, dirty alley, and she knew that she couldn't let it happen to him. Not again, not now, after he had finally, after weeks of suffering silently, began to open up again.

He had pushed everyone away from him after he had come back to work six weeks after the ambush. He had denied the help and support they all wanted to give him, had kept telling them that he was okay, that he didn't need any help, that he could handle things on his own.

And she had let him. Though deep down, Samantha knew it wasn't true, that he wasn't okay. She had seen the pain, not only physically, but also mentally, slowly tearing him apart.

But still, she hadn't done anything, if it was out of fear of being rejected, of hearing that she would be the last person he accepted help from and that she didn't have any right to interfere with his life. Samantha didn't know.

But there was one thing she knew, that right then, in that alley, when she saw him slowly starting to fall apart again, she couldn't let it happen. She _wouldn't_ let it happen.

So she had taken him away from there. Not accepting his protests when she told him she would take him home and pushed him towards his car, not listening to his angry voice telling her she should leave him alone and mind her own damn business, ignoring the rising feeling of panic she felt inside, seeing as all her fears of being rejected now became reality.

His protests had finally stopped when they reached the warmth of her car, and Sam knew then, when she started the engine, that she was doing the right thing.

The ride was spent in silence, and even though Sam felt Martin calm down next to her, she didn't dare say anything to him. She would let him decide when he wanted to start to talk. Because she was determined that tonight, they would talk, if he wanted to or not.

So Samantha surely hadn't expected him to ask her to come up when they reached his apartment. But of course, this had made things a lot easier.

He hadn't talked at first, just sat on his couch, staring into the dying flames in his fire place as the minutes slowly ticked by. She had let him, knowing that sooner or later, he would start talking.

And he did. He had talked about the ambush; his feelings, his fears. He had talked about everything he had gone through the last few weeks and months, and lastly, he had started talking about them.

And she had started talking about them.

They had talked about their relationship, the mistakes they had both made and only now came to realize, the fears they'd had, the feelings for the other, the dreams they had. They had talked about the future. Their future.

Because after all, it seemed there still was one for them.

So now they were standing here, on his balcony, on a bright morning in November, just taking in the sight before them, taking in the feeling of the other's body next to their own, breathing in the cool morning air, breathing in the scent of each other.

And they both knew that right now, life was perfect.

The End


End file.
